Lovely, Dark and Deep
by Nymphean
Summary: Formerly, "Untitled". When her best friends are killed, Hermione is left with many unanswered questions. She goes back to Hogwarts in search of answers, but ends up finding more than she bargained for. Are Harry and Ron really dead? HGRL, HPRW, SS?
1. Introduction

A/n: This fic is a milestone for a few reasons. A) it has a plot. I know, I know, how very unlike me… but it DOES have a plot, and one that doesn't revolve completely around romance either. B) it will be dark. As I hate torture and all things painful/unpleasant, I have not even attempted to write anything that falls short of fluffy before. This is not fluff. So there. C) it features Hermione as the main character. Previously, I've avoided Hermione like the plague. But I've been converted to the ranks of Hermione-worshippers. Yay!   
So yeah. 

Before I begin, I must warn you, there will be slash. If this offends you, please leave. In a perfect world, I would not have to warn you at all, but this world is far from perfect, so yeah…

It should become fairly evident within this introduction who the main paring is. I personally think they belong together, so do me a favor and don't criticize the pairing, ok? 

Any constructive feedback is welcome, and you can even flame me if you want, but please try to be intelligent in your flaming… it makes it so much more fun when the criticism has a shred of validity. 

Oh, and if any of you can think of a good name for this fic, please let me know!

Ta!

-N

Untitled Introduction 

~*Someone's crying, who though could it be?

Someone in this house who no one seemed to see

Someone no one seemed to hear, except for me

I heard someone crying, maybe it was me…*~

He could feel sadness.

It had been a while since Remus had been exposed to the emotions of that particular person, and yet he knew there could be no mistake as to what she was feeling right now. It was a sadness beyond thought, beyond logic. For once in her life, Hermione Granger was completely senseless with grief.

Ever since Remus had been bitten as a teenager, he'd been able to sense other people's emotions. Or rather, he smelled them. It was an odd way to sense how someone else was feeling, by his or her smell, but Remus had, over time, become used to it. He became quite adept at recognizing which scents indicated which emotions. Also, he knew that every person had their own distinctive smell, and right now, Hermione's scent, mixed with that of undeniable grief, flooded his sensitive nostrils. 

Remus quickened his pace, soon reaching the door of the familiar cabin. Set against a backdrop of forest and surrounded by beautiful gardens, the cabin had a warm, well-loved feel to it even from the outside. Remus knew that inside, the atmosphere was just as pleasant. In fact, even more so. This was one of the happiest homes on earth. This was the home of Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. 

_Former Home_, Remus thought, feeling in himself the same grief that he'd sensed in Hermione only moments before. He opened the door and stepped inside.

It was nothing like he'd imagined. He'd thought that there would be a bit of a mess, or boxes, maybe. But not this. This was surreal. Harry and Ron's home was completely empty. Every last piece of furniture, every trinket, every picture and decoration, gone. Remus felt a lump rising in his throat. This was horrible. 

Hermione's scent was getting stronger, but there was no sign of the bushy-haired young woman anywhere. "Hermione?" Remus called out, his voice echoing eerily in the empty house. "I know you're here…" 

"Upstairs…" Came the faint reply, and Remus released his breath (which he'd previously been unaware he'd been holding). He started up the stairs.

He found Hermione in one of the bedrooms, sitting in a corner by the window. The fading sunlight was caught in the mass of brown fuzz that was her hair, and her head was bowed towards her knees. Remus' eyes traced the delicate line of her profile-- the slightly upturned nose, the tight, somber lips, the short slope of her chin—before advancing towards her. 

"I didn't know you'd be here," He said gently. Her knew what she was feeling, even though she was doing a perfect job of concealing it. Even without the help of his lycanthropy, he knew exactly how she felt. He felt it too.

"Can you believe it?" Her voice was so familiar and yet so foreign that for a moment Remus felt disoriented. "I couldn't. I had to come see for myself." She turned to face him, her brown eyes saying so much in just a look. "I mean, how could they be gone? I thought maybe, if I saw that this place was how it's supposed to be, it would mean that maybe they were still here, that I could see them again." She looked around the empty room. "But I guess I was wrong… They really ARE gone. They're not coming back." 

"Where did everything go? I mean… how did this happen?" Remus was at a loss. Two people can be wiped off the face of the earth in just a moment, but for all of their worldly goods to disappear overnight… that was wholly unbelievable. 

"The movers came and cleaned it out. The Property's already been sold. Not even a week on the market."

Remus' eyes widened slightly. A week? Had it really been a week since Harry and Ron had been killed? Remus didn't remember the time passing, but he trusted Hermione to know what was going on… she always did. It was then that Remus looked over at her and noticed what she was wearing. An oversized sweater that he'd seen Harry wear a thousand times or more. On Harry, it had been slightly baggy. On Hermione, it was enormous. It came to the middle of her thighs, hiding her shorts. Bare legs, covered in goose bumps, stuck out from underneath the sweatshirt. Remus pulled at the sleeve and Hermione sighed heavily. 

"I found it in one of the closets… Someone must have forgotten it… it was his favorite…" And then Hermione did something Remus had never seen her do before. She cried. Oh, he was sure she's done her share of crying, but he'd never seen it. Hermione was usually very composed when in the company of those whom she deemed intelligent or worthy of her respect. Remus knew he had done something or other to gain himself a place in these ranks, and although he hadn't the slightest clue what it might be, he quite liked the idea that he, Remus Lupin, had gained the respect and admiration of someone who he respected and admired. Regardless of age, Hermione was a formidable entity, a force of nature not quite of this world. Her intelligence was super-human, her magic powerful, and Remus knew her heart was every bit as fiery as her wit. Never once since her graduation from Hogwarts had Remus seen Hermione lose her cool. So it was all the more shocking to see her like this. But it was only fitting… her best friends HAD died. Remus couldn't help but feel a little callus for not doing the same. 

"I should have saved them," Hermione whispered tearfully. "Remus, I could have done something more to help them… I could have tried, anyway! It seems impossible that, with all the skills and all the intelligence I've been given, there was nothing I could have done to stop this from happening."

Remus knew the feeling. He had also had these thoughts when it had happened. "Hermione, there really wasn't anything you could have done. They were gone for almost a month before we found the bodies… and you tried harder than anyone to get to them."

"They were alive for that month, Remus. They were alive and probably suffering horribly. You saw the bodies." Remus' head was filled with the horrible images of Harry and Ron's broken, bloody corpses. They were barely recognizable. It was a wonder they'd been identified at all. And yet everyone had known exactly who they were. The bodies had not, in fact, really been FOUND at all. Rather, they were given back. 

It had been Severus who'd found them first. Not wanting to seem as though he'd gone soft, the Dark Lord had dropped their broken bodies onto the front steps of the school. Severus had been on his way to the Forbidden Forest to collect some rare potions ingredients when he'd practically stepped on the bodies. Remus knew that, like himself, Hermione had been trying her absolute hardest to find them and bring them home, and when the bodies were found, she must have just shut down completely. Remus didn't really know how she'd reacted, as he hadn't seen her since, but if now was any indication, then it was probably something he didn't want to see. 

"I just hope they were together when they… when it happened. It would have eased the pain a little. They loved each other so much…" and she was crying again. Well, in a manner of speaking. Large, round tears were sliding down her pale cheeks. Remus instinctively reached over and brushed one away. Hermione reached up and caught his hand in hers. 

"The only friends I've ever had are gone," She whispered. "You're the closest thing I have to a friend now. Promise me you won't leave me too."

"I'm not going anywhere," Remus pledged, pressing his lips to her hand. Hermione shivered slightly.

"Can I stay with you tonight?" Her eyes pleaded with him. She looked so lost. Remus felt his heart contract. This was not the Hermione he knew. "I don't want to be alone." She seemed so young right now, like this. He forgot sometimes just how young she actually was.

"Of course you can." He wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back in big circles. "I'd rather not be alone myself."


	2. Well that was fast

A/N: Don't hassle me about the relationship happening way too fast… my friend and sort-of beta, Meg Erskine Frere Albatou, already did that. And I don't care. So =P 

This chapter is where the real story begins. I just wrote the intro because I didn't want to have to explain Harry and Ron's deaths in here. 

Well, have fun all! Reviews are more than welcome… they are required. For me survival. FEED ME!

Ta!

-N

Chapter 1: Well… That was fast… One Month Later 

"Hermione!" She barely looked up as she heard him call her name, followed by the slamming of the door. Remus was home. She took a shaky breath and tried to calm herself down as quickly as she could. "Hermione? Are you here?" She pasted a smile to her face. 

"In here," she called, and seconds later Remus' face appeared at the kitchen door. 

"What are you doing in here?" He asked good-naturedly before being struck by a sudden, awful thought. "You weren't cooking, were you?" Hermione couldn't help but laugh at the horror-stricken look on his face. After living with Remus for a month, he'd learned several things about each other, including the fact that, even with all her talent, Hermione was the world's worst cook. Remus even went s far as to claim that she was worse than Sirius, which Hermione assumed was not generally a good thing. 

"No, I was just… sitting." She went back to staring at the tablecloth. Remus sat down across from her at the tiny square table where they usually ate. 

"Is something wrong?" He asked, all concern. Hermione had to smile a little at this. 

"Yes."

Remus nodded softly. He could tell from the moment he walked in the door that something was not quite right with Hermione. He hoped it wasn't too serious. "Well? What is it?"

Hermione sighed. It was now or never. "Well, I did some thinking today, and I came to a rather startling conclusion. I had to check myself about a million times before I was sure, but the signs are all there and it's basically undeniable." Hermione breathed deeply. She'd never said anything quite like what she was about to say before, and to say that she was terrified was an understatement. But she didn't think that she could go on much longer like this. It was driving her absolutely insane! So she'd decided to go for a very direct approach. She took another deep breath, released it, and said, matter-of-factly, "I'm in love with you, Remus." 

For a moment, Remus was too awe-struck to say anything. Hermione? Was in love? With Him? If he hadn't been so shocked, he might have been sorely tempted to laugh. Hermione, a young, beautiful woman with practically everything going for her, was in love with a boring old man like him? For once in her life, he was convinced Hermione had no idea what she was talking about. It was ridiculous! But then…

He remembered how she'd clung to him that night about a month ago. Neither of them had gone to bed at all that night, Remus had just held her all night long and let her cry. The experience proved cathartic for Hermione, and after that night, she'd been much better. But she still stayed with Remus. He didn't mind… she was good company. Hermione was still the same girl she'd been before; witty, intelligent, and even funny in her own distinct way. Remus enjoyed spending time with her, and the house didn't seem so lonely with her there. 

And then there was this month's full moon. Hermione had stayed by him, uttering encouraging words as he transformed. She knew how painful it was for him, even with the aid of the wolfsbane potion. Thanks to Severus, he now had the potion every month. The wolfsbane let him retain his own mind while in the form of the wolf. Hermione had talked and read to him until the sun came up. She didn't even flinch at the sight of him in his changed form, and she didn't treat him any differently when he was back to normal again. Even Sirius and James had been disgusted at the sight of him when they'd first seen him transform. 

There were countless other occasions when Hermione had done amazing things for Remus. She was always surprising him with what an amazing human being she was. And now she was telling him she loved him. This was too much.

"You don't have to say anything," Hermione said slowly. "I understand this is the kind of information that takes a while to process. I can leave if you want some time to think about this… or if you just want me gone now. I had to wait until I was sure I wasn't dependant on you anymore. I needed to know that what I was feeling was actually love, not some sort of strange dependence. And I needed YOU to know that, too." She got up from the table. "I'm going now… you probably have enough to think about now without my being here to muddle things up." She smiled apologetically. "See you." Hermione turned to walk away, but Remus reached out and caught her tiny hand in his before she had the chance. 

"Wait!" Hermione turned to face him. "You don't think you're getting away that easily, do you?" Remus gave her a small half-smile.

"Please, Remus…" All traces of humor had disappeared from Hermione's face. "I hate to run off like this, but I've just made the biggest confession of my life, and if I don't get out of here soon and find some place to sit down and clear my head, I may very well pass out." 

Remus stood up. "All right… let's go outside, then." Hermione shook her head firmly. 

"No. I need to be away from you while you think this through."

"But don't you want to hear what I think?" Remus caught her gaze and held it. "Just let me tell you a few things, all right? That's only fair, Hermione… You have to give me a chance to respond." Hermione sat down, her face still bearing that stricken look. Remus paused for a moment. He wanted to make sure he phrased everything delicately. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Hermione, whom he'd come to think of as a good friend in the past month.

"Listen… I know you think you're in love with me--"

"I am."

Remus sighed. "Hermione, I have very little doubt that you DO love me. But there's a difference between loving someone and being in love with them. I know how highly you think of me, and I'm afraid that you've confused respect and admiration for love. No, don't say anything, I'm not finished. I believe that you love me, and you may even think you're in love with me, but you're not. If you wait it out, you'll probably realize that you love me like, well, like a father-- after all, I AM old enough to be yours—and that a relationship between us just wouldn't work because of that." Remus leaned back in his chair, knowing that it had been completely necessary to lecture Hermione like that, but hating what it had undoubtedly done to her nonetheless. Remus looked at Hermione, ready for the pain he would see in her face. But what he saw there was not what he'd expected to see. Hermione was smiling. Not widely; it was just a ghost of a smile, but it was a smile nonetheless. 

"I knew you'd say that," she said, eliciting a shocked expression. "Surprised? You shouldn't be… you KNOW I've always been good at predicting people's reactions. I figured you'd come up with that argument. But I'm not going to let it dissuade me." She leaned forward and looked him in the eye. "Remus, I have a perfectly good father already. And with him, Dumbledore and Mr. Weasley, I don't need any more father figures in my life. I'm perfectly aware that you're old enough to have fathered me, but it doesn't really cross my mind all that often. Since graduation I've thought of you as a peer. I've never once equated you with a father figure. So unless you think of me like a daughter, I see no problem there." She leaned back. A moment later, a thought seemed to strike her, and her easy expression turned tense quite quickly. "You don't think of me like a daughter… do you?"

Remus squeezed his eyes shut. "No… but Hermione, that's not the point."

"Well then, what IS the point?" She crossed her arms over her chest, awaiting his answer. 

"The point is that I'm an old man, and you're a beautiful young woman. I have nothing to offer you, and you have everything to offer me. You're intelligent, sweet, talented and beautiful, and you could have anyone you want. Don't try and tie yourself down to someone like me. Go out! Meet people! Live your life, Hermione, and meet someone who can give you what you deserve. You don't want me, just trust me on that. I'm more than twice your age, with a modest income and little to show for my years."

"I don't care!" Hermione reached out and put her hand over his. "Remus, I don't care about any of that. I don't WANT to go and meet new people… I have all the friends I need. I AM living my life… but I don't want to live it if it doesn't involve you. I don't care about your age or your income or whether you've done anything to make yourself known. So what? I've had famous friends before, Remus, and trust me when I say I'd rather have NOTHING to show for my years than live in the spotlight." She smiled. "I already know what you are, what you have and don't have, and how you live. There are so many more good things about you than bad things. But even with the bad, I still love you. It doesn't matter to me. I don't know what else I can say to make you believe me."

Remus ran his free hand through his graying hair. "Hermione, stop this. You're being ridiculous. Even if all that made sense, you seem to be forgetting one thing. I'm a werewolf! By loving you, I'd be putting you in danger. I just can't do that."

"Please, Remus, don't make pointless arguments like that. I'm not stupid. I know you're a werewolf, and like I've already said, I don't care! I'm already living here; I'm already in danger. And besides, I'll _always_ be in some kind of danger." She sighed. "I was the best friend of the late Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, for heaven's sake! If Voldemort was going to come after one last person, I'd be a fairly likely target, don't you think? I mean, considering the fact that I've helped Harry stop him at least half a dozen times or more."

"Don't talk like that!" Remus stood up angrily. "You're not a target… I would never let him get to you!" 

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay…" He squeezed his eyes shut. "Look, I won't deny that I'm interested, 

but Hermione, I just don't know…" Hermione got up and stood beside him, taking his hands in hers.

"I do. I know exactly how it is. You're scared. You're afraid that you'll screw up, or get hurt, or end up losing your heart completely. I know, Remus. You don't think I'm scared too?" She laughed nervously. "I'm terrified. But Remus, I love you. How many times do I have to say it before you believe me?"

He looked down at her, their eyes meeting like so many times before. But it was different now… so different. "Hermione…" she shook her head.

"Don't answer… I'll just keep saying it. For the rest of my life if I have to. And even if I don't have to." She held his gaze. "That is, if that's alright with you."

Remus paused, his eyes still locked on hers. "I… Yes, I suppose that would be…" He drifted off, opting instead to put his lips to better use. Hermione closed her eyes as their lips met, an immense sense of accomplishment mixing with the love and lust she'd already been feeling. 

"So what does this mean?" she asked him as they broke apart. 

"I don't know… I suppose it means I love you too." 

Hermione shook her head. "You don't have to. Don't say it if it isn't true." 

Remus caressed her cheek. "But I DO love you, Hermione… there was never any question about that. It's whether I'm IN love with you that I was questioning."

"And?"

He smiled sheepishly. "Maybe. Just a little. But it's growing exponentially."

Hermione placed her hand over his on her cheek and moved it away. "Then I think that I may just have to kiss you again."

"That would be quite alright.

Chapter 2: Death my Bride 

_~*I'm as puzzled as a newborn child,_

_I'm as riddled as the tide._

_Should I stand with the break lines_

_Or should I lay with death my bride?_

_Hear me sing 'swim to me, swim to me,_

_Let me enfold you_

_Here I am, here I am, waiting to hold you'*~_

Three months later 

**Early June**

"Remus! Mail!" Hermione stepped away from the window and towards the small, cozy living room that she'd shared with Remus for four months now. She leaned over the back of the couch and kissed him awkwardly, making them both laugh. "Take the mail, you," she said, hitting him in the chest with several envelopes before dropping them into his lap and walking around the couch to sit beside him. They simultaneously turned their envelopes over and spied the Hogwarts crest on the back. They looked up and met each other's eyes before opening the envelopes. After both of them had read their letters, they looked at each other again. There was a moment of silence before Remus said, "Well?" a slow grin spread over Hermione's face.

"Arithmancy. You?"

Remus rolled his eyes. "Defense Against the Dark Arts, of course. A little variety would be nice, but Albus seems to be stuck with a shortage of offers for that position once again."

Hermione patted his arm consolingly. "He just thinks highly of your teaching abilities in that particular field." She grinned again. "I can't even believe this… 21 and already a professor! Who would have thought?"

"Certainly not me!" Hermione slapped his arm playfully, at which Remus grinned back at her. "I would have thought you'd be there by 19 at the oldest." He kissed her forehead. "Now, 21 and dating your crusty old Defense teacher… I wouldn't have predicted that!" 

"We're hardly dating, really," Hermione replied, twining her fingers with his. "But I actually would have predicted it." 

"What!?"

Hermione snickered. "Don't be so shocked… You know I was always a rather precocious child. And I was completely enthralled with you in third year."

"You ARE joking, right?"

"Come now, you know I have absolutely no sense of humor. Seriously. I'd gotten over it by about halfway through my fourth year… well, I thought so, anyway." Remus frowned.

"Gods. You've been attracted to me for much longer than I have to you." 

"Well, I should hope so," Hermione replied laughingly. "I was thirteen-year-old child. I would start worrying if you'd felt the same way I did." She leaned against him, putting her head on his shoulder. "Anyway, none of that matters now."

Remus toyed with a strand of her hair and looked thoughtfully at the Hogwarts letter. "I wonder what strange rumors will circulate around the school about Professors Lupin and Granger." He chuckled to himself. "Can you imagine? I can't wait to catch them passing notes about us."

"As long as I don't catch any little third years whispering about you in the way that I would have at that age, it'll probably prove to be quite amusing." Remus made a face. 

"Please, Hermione… I'm almost fifty. I doubt any thirteen year old in her right mind would be attracted to me." 

"I would be."

"That's different… you're… well, you're YOU."

Hermione leaned away from him. "What's THAT supposed to mean, hmm?"

"You're depraved and disgusting." Remus grinned. "Just a couple of the reasons why I love you."

Hermione seemed to consider this before leaning forward and kissing him deeply. "That was a good answer. I think you're finally learning something, Professor Lupin." 

"I don't think that was Arithmancy you were trying to teach me, Professor Granger." Hermione smiled devilishly.

"Are you suggesting that I change my lesson plan?" 

"Or maybe your entire field."

"Perhaps I should move into the dungeons." Remus laughed, and then flinched. "What?"

He shuddered again. "Oh nothing really… you just gave me a rather unpleasant mental picture of Severus using the dungeons for the purpose you'd just suggested…"

"Remus!" Hermione hit his shoulder with a pillow from the couch. "That is DISGUSTING!" She collapsed against his chest in a fit of giggles. "Oh gods… can you imagine?" She did her best impression of Severus. "'You're doing it wrong! I have never seen such incompetence!'" Now Remus was laughing hysterically as well.

"What kind of noises would he make, do you think?" Remus grunted loudly, sending Hermione into another fit of giggles. After they had both calmed down, Remus looked at Hermione with a puzzled expression. "But who in their right mind would--"

"Don't ask." Hermione wrinkled her nose in distaste. "You don't want to know."

Remus regarded her curiously. "What do you mean? Do you know something I don't?" He was struck by a sudden, horrible thought. "You didn't…"

"NO! Gods, Remus… honestly!" Hermione made a face. "Would I do something like that?" She shook her head, disgusted. "No… he's too… too OLD."

"Hermione, he's my age."

"Yes, but he's so stodgy and… and _crusty_! You're wise without being old and grouchy. He's just old and grouchy."

"Severus is a very smart man." Remus didn't know why he was defending Severus.

"Oh, I know he's smart. Smart, not wise. Wise is being smart without offending everyone in the process. And you KNOW he offends every single person he meets." Hermione shook her head. "Besides, I don't think Snape would have been at all interested in me… something tells me he's not really playing for that team."

"WHAT?" Remus shook his head. "Oh no… I think I'd have found out by now if Severus… enjoyed the company of men." Hermione nodded secretively.

"Uh-huh." Remus regarded her suspiciously. 

"You DO know something, don't you?" Hermione shrugged. "Come on, tell me…"

"Some other time." Hermione quickly changed the subject. "Does your letter say when we're supposed to report to Dumbledore?"

"No… I guess we just go whenever we can." 

"We could go now," Hermione suggested, suddenly unable to wait to return to her old school. Remus shrugged.

"If you want… I don't have much to do around here." Hermione leaned over and kissed him before getting up off the couch.

"I'm going to go pack a bag quickly… I'm so excited! I always hoped I'd be asked to teach at Hogwarts!" Remus smiled at Hermione's enthusiasm. She'd make a wonderful teacher, he was sure of that. That is, if she didn't end up cramming the students full of so much information that they exploded. He watched her back as she disappeared through the doorway. He was determined to make this the best year of both of their lives.

*****

"How are we this morning?" Voldemort smiled wickedly at the prisoner. "Warm? Cozy?" The prisoner moaned weakly. "Good. I wouldn't want you to be--" A swift kick to the ribs "—_Uncomfortable_." The prisoner coughed violently, blood leaking from between his swollen lips. The broken man lay on his side on the cold, hard stone floor, his dried blood forming a red ring around him. He had been beaten and used until he seemed barely human, and yet his pained moans and cries could not be anything but. The Dark Lord, on the other hand, had never looked better. Over the years, he had reconstructed his body piece by piece until he'd returned to his original form. The tall, severely handsome man was charismatic and calm, yet no one who looked at him could possibly describe him as anything but evil. He was evil in its purest form, and with the power and energy he'd stolen from the prisoner, he was able to wreak his vengeance upon the world with alarming power. He was finally ready.

"It's really too bad you have to die in order for me to reach my full strength." Voldemort knelt down beside the broken man. "You would have made a splendid trophy. Just think… what better prize for the Dark Lord than to have you, of all people, at my side. If only you'd given me what I wanted willingly."

The prisoner struggled to form words. "My life…" he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely audible. Voldemort shook his head.

"No, my boy… just your power. You could have shared. We would have been great… but it's too late now for that. You're almost gone anyway. Look at you… all that power, wasted for the wrong side. What good did it do you? None. You're still going to die." Voldemort grinned maliciously. "And yet… yes, I think I'll keep you around for just a little while longer."

The prisoner narrowed his eyes, which were already practically swollen shut. "They… they'll come for me… th-they won't give… give up…"

"Come for you?" The Dark Lord laughed loudly. "I doubt it! Why would they come for you if they think you're dead?" The prisoner heard the words ringing off the dungeon walls and felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. Voldemort was not lying. Somehow, some way, he'd made them all think he was gone. They would not come in search of him. His last shred of hope had finally disappeared. "The Granger girl was getting close, a little too close. The others were way off track, but she almost ruined everything. I couldn't have her destroying my plans again. So I found a clever way to 'kill' you. They'll never even give it another thought." The Dark Lord's grin spread across his entire face. He had crushed the boy. He had finally killed that last ray of sunlight. 

"You could have had it all, you know," He said as he stood and walked over to the door. "But instead, you have nothing. Happy now?" He laughed deeply. "Goodnight, Harry. Pleasant dreams."


	3. Throwing Shadows at the Moon

A/n: Well, this, ladies and gents, is chapter 2. I'm pretty sure you knew that already, but hey, whatever. Yes, I write long chapters. Here's where the plot kicks in. Have fun with that. 

I'm already half way through the third chapter, but I don't know when I'll finish it. I'll see if I get any reviews for what I have so far… this is the problem with posting huge amounts all at once… you just never know!

(In case you didn't get it, that means I want reviews, dammit!)

Hope you're enjoying yourself! Have fun!

-N

P.S: Need I repeat that I need a title?!? HELP!!!

Ta! ~N

Chapter 2: Rubbing Elbows with the Moon 

"Alright, class… time to take your seats." Hermione stood at the front of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, eyeing the sixth year Gryffindors carefully. She hardly had any of these students in her Arithmancy class. She silently cursed the full moon. It was just a coincidence that she had to cover for Remus during his short absence. Hermione dreaded teaching defense more than anything. She knew that she was commonly thought of as boring by the students, and she could never hope to measure up to Remus' teaching, especially in this course. After a month of school, Remus had quickly become one of the more popular teachers (as was always the case when he was at Hogwarts). Hermione was not quite so celebrated, but she didn't really mind. Although it had upset her slightly when she'd heard the student's whispers as she entered the classroom in Remus' place. She was certain they were expressing their discontent at having her as a replacement. She opened up Remus' lesson plan.

"Today, we're going to learn about vanishing spells. Vanishing spells can be quite helpful in a battle, but they can also…" She noticed that a pretty brunette girl in the front had her hand up. "Yes, Miss… um…"

"Brown, Violet Brown." Hermione smiled to herself. Lavender's younger sister. She could see it now. 

"What is it, Violet?" 

"Are you _really_ going to marry Professor Lupin?"

Hermione was caught completely off guard. For a moment, she just stood there, unable to form a sentence, and then she came up with quite an intelligent reply; "Um… What?" Violet repeated her question, and Hermione furrowed her brow. "Um, not to MY knowledge…"

"Oh," Violet seemed disappointed. "I heard a rumor." 

"No." Hermione smiled in spite of herself. Rumors spread quickly in this school… she'd have to warn Remus later. "I'm afraid that rumor is completely false. Now, if that's all the questions regarding the personal lives of Professor Lupin and myself, I'd like to get on with the lesson." Another hand went up at the back. This time Hermione consulted the seating plan. "Mr. Hildebrand?" 

The young man looked at her anxiously. "Is it true you were best friends with Ron Weasley and Harry Potter?"

The question hit Hermione like a load of bricks. Five months, and she still couldn't hear Harry and Ron's names without feeling like bursting into tears. She was silent for a moment as she composed herself, not trusting herself to talk for fear that she'd start to cry. The class waited with bated breath for her reply. Finally, Hermione took a deep breath and replied, "Yes. Yes I was." She took a shaky breath. "Open your texts to page 149 and read the--"

"Tell us about them!" Violet Brown again. Hermione desperately wanted to drop the subject.

"Ask your sister."

"I did," Violet pouted, "She starts crying every time I bring it up." Hermione clenched her jaw.

"Then ask Professor Lupin or Professor McGonagall. They'll be able to tell you the whole story."

"But they weren't best friends with them," A new student, who looked remarkably like Seamus and had the same Irish brogue, piped up. "Please tell us, Professor Granger!"

A chorus of 'Yes, tell us!' and 'Please, Professor?' arose from the classroom. Hermione figured she might as well tell the story… they'd never stop hounding her. Best to get it over with. 

"Alright… What do you want to know?" Almost all the hands shot up at once. Hermione pointed to a pretty redhead in the third row. She could have been a Weasley, so bright was her hair and so freckled was her face. "Yes?"

"Is it really true they were found outside the school?"

"Yes," Hermione said quietly. "Right on the front steps. Hildebrand?" 

"How long had you been friends?" 

"Since our first year." Hermione thought back. "Well, the end of our first year, anyway. They hated me at first." There were a few laughs at this. Hermione failed to see the humor. "You. Yes?"

"What were they like?" 

Hermione took a moment to reflect. "Harry was brave. A little too brave sometimes… He didn't always think hard enough before doing things. But he always did his best. He was the sweetest, kindest person I've ever known, and despite all the rotten luck he'd had in his life, he always managed to make the best of things. Ron was the most stubborn boy I'd ever seen, but he was also the most loyal and the most caring. He may not have seemed like the brightest crayon in the box, but he was truly a great wizard, not to mention a strategic genius. The were both the best friends anyone could ever hope for." Hermione pushed back the tears that were threatening to fall. Violet had her hand up again. "Yes, Violet?"

"Lavender won't tell me, but… Is it true that they were… you know, lovers?"

Hermione almost laughed. "Yes. In hindsight, it's a wonder I didn't see it all along. I was so shocked when I finally figured it out… but I STILL worked it through before they did! That's one thing I forgot to mention… they were both completely clueless sometimes. But once they figured it out and got used to the idea, it was like they'd never been without each other a day in their lives. They loved each other more than any other couple I can think of."

"Even you and Professor Lupin?" It was the Seamus-look-alike again. Hermione rolled her eyes. Definitely a Finnigan. 

"I believe we were talking about Harry and Ron, not Professor Lupin and myself. Anyone else?"

There were many more questions about Harry and Ron's personal life as well as their school days and the battles Hermione had fought with them. After a long while, a brunette in the front row put up her hand. Hermione nodded to her. "What did the autopsy list as the cause of death?"

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't find the words. She searched her memory for the answer, but couldn't come up with it, no matter how hard she tried. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more certain she became that she'd never even been told the cause of death. She'd just assumed they'd been beaten to death from the look of the corpses. But suddenly, she wasn't so sure. "You know, I can't say that I really know. I never saw the autopsy… it was classified information at the time, and I guess we all just assumed that they'd been beaten to death. That was certainly the way it looked." Hermione glanced up at the clock. "It's almost the end of class… why don't I let you all go a few minutes early?" The students thanked her and left the room quickly, leaving Hermione alone to ponder the last question. It suddenly seemed odd to her that she'd never known the actual cause of death. Hermione packed up her texts and her lesson plans and left the classroom, heading for her next destination; the hospital wing. Perhaps she could shed some light on this mystery that had suddenly befallen her.

*****

Hermione managed feed Madame Pomfrey a line about needing Remus' old medical records due to a complication with this month's dose of wolf's bane. After Poppy had been satisfied that it was nothing serous and that Hermione and Severus could handle it, she let Hermione into the records room and left her to her own devices. 

After pulling Remus' file to cover her tracks, Hermione moved over a couple cabinets to the file containing letters P-R. She riffled through the files until she came to a particularly thick one; Potter, Harry. Putting the file on top of her books, she moved to the W-Z file and located Ron's file, which was somewhat thinner but by no means small. She tucked both files inside Remus', left the records room, bid Poppy a quick goodbye and headed for her rooms. 

Once inside, Hermione sat down at her desk and took out the two files. At the very back, she found both autopsy reports. She shoved the files aside roughly and began to scour Harry's.

_Severe head trauma… Deep lacerations at the wrists and ankles… burn wounds and lacerations throughout. Possible neurological damage… fragments of skull lodged in frontal lobe… _Hermione skipped over the gory details to the very end of the report, where it was written in capital letters, _CAUSE OF DEATH: UNDETERMINED._

Hermione frowned. This was very strange. An autopsy almost always revealed the cause of death. She picked up Ron's autopsy report, which, eerily enough, was almost identical. She skimmed down to the end of the report. _CAUSE OF DEATH: UNDETERMINED. _Hermione set down the report, now in a state of complete consternation. Something was amiss with these reports… she just couldn't put her finger on what. She opened Harry's report again, this time flipping to the vital stats.

_Male, 21 years of age, Hair: Black, Eyes: Green. 5'11", 165lbs. Race: Caucasian. Blood type: O negative. _Hermione nodded to herself. That was all correct as far as she could remember. She turned to Ron's vital stats. 

_Male, 21 years of age, Hair: Red, Eyes: Blue. 6'4", 172lbs. Race: Caucasian. Blood type: B positive. _Hermione frowned again. Something was wrong with that, but she couldn't put her finger on what. Hermione put her head down on her desk. This was not working. How was she supposed to figure out what was wrong with this autopsy if she couldn't remember anything about her best friends?

*****

Hermione poked her head into the bedroom she shared with Remus. He was still sleeping, exhausted from the previous night's full moon. She was just about to leave when he opened his eyes and squinted at her. 

"H…" He cleared his throat. "Hey."

Hermione smiled sympathetically. "It was a bad one last night, was it?" Remus nodded. She walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge of it, running her fingers through his graying hair. "I wish there was a way to make it easier for you." 

"You do," He smiled up at her. "I love you, you know."

"I know." She kissed his forehead. "I love you too." Remus noticed that, while she seemed sincere enough, she was also quite distracted. 

"You've got something big on your mind again, haven't you?" Hermione shrugged. 

"Maybe."

Remus sighed. He'd seen Hermione get like this before, when she was working on some sort of problem. He knew she'd barely sit down until she'd figured it out. "Tell me."

"Not right now. I don't want to tire you out… you're already in bad shape." 

"You'll only tire yourself out by thinking about whatever it is all alone."

"That's inconsequential," Hermione replied. "Now get some rest and stop trying to be the voice of reason."

Remus shook his head and sat up. "I've been sleeping all day… I'm barely even tired anymore. So tell me."

Hermione glared mockingly at him. "Liar. Fine, I'll tell you. I've run out of arguments anyway." She sighed heavily, recalling her problem. "It's about Harry and Ron. Today your sixth year Gryffindors decided to bombard me with questions about them."

"Oh gods."

"Tell me about it. Anyway, I decided it was futile to try and avoid their interrogation… Gryffindors are persistent to a fault, I would know that better then anyone. Anyway, one girl asked what the official cause of death was, and I realized that none of us were ever really told for sure, we all just assumed we knew. So I went and borrowed the autopsy reports. And do you know what I found?"

Remus dreaded to even think about it. "No idea."

"It said 'Cause of death: unknown'. Don't you think that's strange?"

Remus frowned pensively. "It is fairly uncommon… but perhaps the bodies were too far damaged to tell."

"Perhaps. But there was something else that bothered me about the reports. I can't figure out what it was, nothing is really sticking out, but the part that looks wrong to me is the physical stats. Something just doesn't seem right."

"What are you suggesting?"

"I don't know…" Hermione shook her head. "I just think there's more to their deaths than we've been thinking. I have a feeling about this… there's dirty work afoot."

"Of course there is," Remus replied. "Two wizards were murdered! I think that qualifies as 'Dirty work'." 

"No, no… that's not what I meant." Hermione looked him in the eye. "There's something more to this, Remus, and whatever it is, I swear I'll find it out.

The Next Week… 

"I'm glad you called me… we've barely talked in months!" Ginny sat across the table from Hermione, who was playing with her salad absent-mindedly. 

"Oh, you know… I thought we should catch up, have a little girl time, just the two of us." Ginny smiled at her old friend. She had begun to think that Hermione had only been her friend because of her brother. 

"Well, I'm definitely glad to see you again." Ginny picked worriedly at her meal. "I was beginning to worry." 

Hermione shook her head. "If it's me you're worried about, don't. I'm doing just fine… I'm young, I have a steady job that I just adore, and I'm in love."

"With Professor Lupin!" Ginny giggled. "That's so weird!" 

"How?" Hermione always got indignant when people criticized her relationship with Remus. 

"Oh, I didn't really mean in a bad way, just…" Ginny shrugged. "In an unexpected way, I guess. I actually think you guys are great for each other… I just never would have thought of it, that's all."

Hermione smiled apologetically. "Sorry about that… I get a bit defensive sometimes." Ginny nodded understandingly. 

"I know how it is, don't worry. We've all been there."

Hermione took a sip of her butterbeer. "So, how are things going with you?"

"Very well, thank the gods! Ever since last year's scare I've been rushing to the hospital every time I felt the tiniest pain." 

_That's Right,_ Thought Hermione, mentally kicking herself. Ginny had had a horrible few months about a year ago when the doctors had all though she had cancer in her left kidney. It had turned out that it was just a benign cist, but it was still a frightening experience for Ginny and her family and friends.

"Do you know that, despite the fact that I come from the biggest family on the planet, Ron was the only one of my brothers and my parents who was even a potential donor?" Hermione nodded; she'd remembered Ron's reaction to the news. He'd almost been proud that he was the one who got to help save his sister. "Mmhm," Ginny continued, "We were the only two out of everyone who even had the same blood type."

Hermione did a double take. "What did you say?"

Ginny looked at her strangely. "I said, 'We were the only ones with the same blood type'. Why?" she looked up and caught Hermione's odd expression. "Are you alright?"

"Blood type," Hermione whispered to herself. "Yes, yes…" Hermione waved her hand dismissively. "I'm fine." She paused. "Um, Ginny, just what IS your blood type?"

"O negative," Ginny replied, looking at Hermione like she was nuts.

Hermione frowned. "Um, Gin… look, I'm really sorry but I have to go right now… I, uh, just remembered something I have to do at the school. Here, this should cover the bill." She got up, muttering her apologies, and practically flew out the door, leaving behind an unfinished salad and a stunned Ginny Weasley.

*****

Hermione flipped through Ron's autopsy report. She knew it was in there somewhere. Blood type, blood type… Hermione found the vital stats section. _Blood type: B Positive. _Hermione narrowed her eyes. Ginny had said she and Ron were O negative! Hermione grabbed Harry's autopsy report and found his vital stats. _Blood Type: O Negative. _Hermione closed the report, puzzled. Harry had Ron's blood type. It didn't make any sense. Struck by a sudden thought, Hermione opened Harry's file and took out the first page, a sheet from when Harry had first enrolled at Hogwarts containing his entire medical history to that point. Hermione skimmed over it until she found the blood type. _B Positive._ So Harry and Ron's blood types had somehow gotten mixed up… but how? Perhaps, if the autopsies had been done at the same time, their blood had somehow gotten mixed up. Hermione saw the autopsy date on Harry's report; May 25. She turned to Ron's report. May 26. There was no way the blood types had gotten mixed up with that time difference. Another theory down the drain. 

_Blood types don't just change, _Hermione thought angrily. This was beginning to get annoying. Someone had messed with the bodies of her two best friends. She was NOT too pleased, to say the least. 

It was at that moment that Hermione noticed something else at the back of Harry's file. She pulled on it, and out came an envelope full of pictures. The front of the envelope was clearly marked 'Autopsy Photos'. Hermione pushed back her feelings of disgust and pulled out the pictures. She felt like vomiting at the sight of Harry's bloody body, but she told herself matter-of-factly that she needed to do this to find out what was wrong with Harry and Ron's deaths. She surveyed several photos before something stopped her. It was a picture of Harry's corpse from the front. Hermione grabbed the magnifying glass from her desk drawer and held it over Harry's left hipbone. The skin was barely broken here, only bruised. Hermione narrowed her eyes, hardly believing what she was seeing. In his seventh year at Hogwarts, Harry had gotten a small tattoo on his hipbone. Hermione had drawn him the design and knew it off by heart. It was a small black rose with a thorny stem and a single leaf. Hermione looked closer. Now she KNEW something wasn't right. She'd been there when he'd gotten the tattoo, she knew the design off by heart. A black rose with one leaf. She put the magnifying glass down and threw the picture aside, burying her face in her hands. She KNEW that design, she'd drawn it herself.  
The tattoo in the picture had two leafs. Two.

Hermione was beginning to wonder if she knew ANYTHING anymore. 

*****

"I can't believe I'm doing this." Hermione rubbed her arms through the thin material of her jacket. It was surprisingly chilly for mid October. She fumbled with her key ring, her frozen fingers not functioning very well, until she found the key she was looking for. It was a big, old-fashioned brass key. Hermione inserted it into the lock and pulled up on the storage unit's huge sliding door. After groaning in protest, it slid up just far enough for Hermione to duck beneath it. She pulled out her wand. The unit was dark inside. 

"Lumos," She whispered, wondering why she was keeping her voice so low. After all, it wasn't like there was anyone around, and even if there had been, she had nothing to hide. She DID have the key. She had a right to be there if she wanted. She was the sole owner of all of Harry and Ron's property that hadn't been distributed to their other family and friends. Hermione gazed around the dimly lit storage unit. She didn't know what she'd hoped to accomplish by looking through it's contents, only that maybe she might find something that would help her solve the growing mystery surrounding her best friends' deaths. She bypassed several boxes marked "clothes", shoved two large crates containing kitchenware out of the way and had a quick look at a box marked "school" Which contained several old text books and supplies before she struck gold; a large pile of boxes marked "Personal". 

The first box contained a big stack of photo albums, which Hermione browsed and then put aside with the idea of taking them back to Hogwarts with her. The second contained a cornucopia of miscellaneous junk including letters, awards, and gifts that Harry and Ron had given each other over the years. The third box that Hermione went through contained an embarrassingly extensive array of sex toys. Hermione jumped and quickly shut the box, a blush creeping to her cheeks. It wasn't until the forth box that she made her big discovery.

They were beneath wads of pages from the Daily Prophet, well protected by the scrunched up newspaper. Hermione pulled at one of the two polished wooden boxes, dislodging it from its protective wrappings. She studied it carefully before finally realizing what it was. A Mortality box. She heard of them before. She didn't have one herself, but many wizards did. It was almost like a will, in a way. The only person who could open the Mortality box while the owner was alive was the owner themselves. After the wizard's death, the box could be opened by anyone except those whom it was specifically spelled against. Inside, the wizard or witch kept letters, messages or trinkets to be distributed to various different people after their death. Sort of an "If you're reading this, I'm already dead" type thing. Hermione hadn't known that Harry and Ron had kept them, but looking back, it DID seem like something they would have done. Curious as to why no one had thought of it before, she reached down to open the lid. 

It stuck.

Hermione furrowed her brow. Weren't mortality boxes supposed to open effortlessly after the death? She pulled on the lid again. Still stuck. This time she pulled on both the bottom and the top. Nothing. She picked up the other box and turned it over a couple times. It was quite nicely decorated, just like the other one. This one's hinges were shaped like tiny lions. She pulled on the lid. Instead of opening, one of the lion hinges came to life and bit her finger quite hard. Hermione yelped and dropped the box. She stared at the box in awe. Why wasn't it opening? Harry and Ron were dead, weren't they? Surely their mortality boxes should be opening. Unless…

Unless they were spelled against her. Hermione frowned. Why would Harry and Ron have done that? Especially after willing almost all of their things to her. She was their best friend. They would never have done that. Maybe the boxes were malfunctioning. That had to be it. After all, the boxes had to open unless the owner was alive. 

_Unless the owner was alive._

Hermione shook her head to rid herself of the thought. Ron and Harry were dead. That was a fact. Everyone knew it. They'd all seen the bodies. There had even been an autopsy… she'd read the report. 

_The blood types,_ a little voice in the back of her mind reminded her_, and the tattoo_. She pushed the voice back. Maybe the blood types were just a mistake. And maybe she'd seen the photo wrong. She should look at it again. 

No. Poppy Pomfrey had done the autopsies herself, and in all the years Hermione had known her, she'd never once seen the woman make such a stupid mistake. It just didn't happen. And she knew she'd seen the picture correctly. She'd studied it for quite a while. And now the mortality boxes. She couldn't be sure of anything anymore. 

*****

"Good evening, Harry."

Harry attempted to roll over. He was still on the floor where he'd been for… what was it? Months? Years? He didn't even know. The only times he'd moved were when they'd tortured him. He'd gotten up to go to the bathroom in a small, rusted bucket in the corner of the room. He'd almost gotten used to living like this, almost forgotten his other life. He almost forgot his house, his friends. He'd almost forgotten Ron.   
_Ron. _It was painful to think of Ron like this, but Harry was sure Voldemort had killed him long ago. He knew he was the only one Voldemort was really interested in. And although it hurt him more than anything they'd done to him so far to think of life without Ron, He knew it would be even worse if Ron had had to endure what Harry was enduring right now. 

Voldemort was standing over him. "Don't you think it's time you gave this up, Harry? Look at you. You're pathetic, worthless. What are you accomplishing by lying here like this? I think it's just about time you put an end to it all. The way I see it, you have two choices: One, give me what I want. All it takes is one word, just one, and everything will be made right again. We'll heal your wounds, clean you up. I can fix it all. All you have to do is say you'll give me what I want."

"No," Harry whispered, and then, more forcefully, "Fuck you."

Voldemort's expression turned to stone. "Then die. Just stop resisting. We've tried to kill you, Harry, but you're just not dying. If you won't give me what I want, then I'm not going to give what you want: a quick, painless death. Oh, I could…" Voldemort raised his wand. "I could kill you right now and be rid of you. All it takes is a wave of the wand and two simple words. Avada--" Voldemort dropped the wand to his side, smiling evilly. "No, I don't think so. That's too easy, isn't it?"

"Haven't you hurt me enough?" Harry spat angrily. "Just kill me."

"No," Voldemort said. "What were your words? Ah yes… 'Fuck You'".

Harry squeezed his eyes shut. He heard Voldemort sweep out of the room and mutter something to a death eater who was standing outside the door. Seconds later, Harry felt someone else staring at him. He opened his eyes. It was Lucius Malfoy. 

"Well, well…" Lucius grinned wickedly, leaning against the doorway. "If I didn't know it was you, I'd never have recognized the Great Harry Potter." He shook his head. "You're a mess, aren't you? Pathetic, really. The other one's not nearly as bad… at least you can still recognize him by that awful hair and those horrid freckles. Well, goodbye, Potter. I hope they DO get you, and soon. Even _I_'_m _not that cruel." The door slammed shut. 

Harry hadn't even heard the last few sentences. He was caught on something Lucius had said. _That awful hair and those horrid freckles… the other one…_ Harry breathed in sharply. 

_Ron… Ron was alive_.

Harry knew what he had to do.

"Malfoy!" Harry's voice didn't come out nearly as loudly as he would have liked it to. "Malfoy!"

Lucius' face appeared at the small barred opening in the door. "What is it, Potter?"

"Send for your master. I have something to tell him."

*****

"Remus!" Hermione slammed the door to their rooms with no small amount of trouble, yelling her lover's name rather loudly. "Where are you?" 

Remus peeked around the bedroom doorframe into the outer chambers. "Hey. What's wrong?" He hurried over to Hermione and grabbed some of the boxes she was carrying. "What's all this?"

"It's Harry and Ron's," Hermione began. Remus set down the box he was holding rather forcefully and looked her in the eye. 

"Hermione, I thought we agreed we were going to try and put that all behind us." 

"Yes, but I just couldn't stop thinking about the autopsy results, Remus. Something's wrong, something big."

Remus rolled his eyes. "People make mistakes, Hermione. Are you telling me you've never reversed umbers or words when you were writing down the results of something? I used to teach you, remember? I KNOW you have."

"That's different… I've never made a mistake THAT big. And there's something else."

Remus looked at her steadily. "Hermione, love…"

"No, listen!" Hermione picked up one of the mortality boxes and held it out so that Remus could clearly see what it was. "You know what this is, don't you?" Remus nodded slowly. 

"A mortality box. Why? Is it Harry's or Ron's?" Hermione turned the box over to show him the inscription on the bottom. _Harry James Potter. _Before Remus could touch it, Hermione pulled it back towards her, arched an eyebrow at her lover and tugged on the top as hard as she could. Remus frowned slightly.

"Are you sure the lid's not just stuck?" Hermione shook her head. 

"I must have tried it a million times. It won't open."

Remus found this news more than a little unsettling. "It must be spelled against you. I don't know why it would be, but…" He drifted off. "Here, let me have a go." He took the box out of Hermione's hands and tried to open it, with much the same results as his lover. "I don't understand, Hermione… why would Harry spell his mortality box against us?"

Hermione seemed to have no answer to this question except "They wouldn't." Remus sighed heavily. 

"Hermione, they MUST have! Otherwise they would have opened when we tried… you know that!" 

Tears sprang to Hermione's eyes. "I DON'T know that for sure, Remus… I don't know ANYTHING for sure! All I know is that my friends are gone and I don't know what happened to them, how they died or if they're even DEAD, and I can't--"

"Hermione, stop this," Remus set the box down on the desk and grabbed Hermione by the shoulders. "Harry and Ron are dead. You know that as well as I do. You saw the bodies, the photographs of the autopsy; you were there when they were lowered into the ground. I know it's hard to let go of them, but you have to. Enough of this foolishness… just stop playing detective and let it go." Underneath his hands, Hermione's shoulders shook with the emotions she was repressing. Remus looked at her face, his eyes softening, and pulled her into his arms. "Gods… you're much more upset than I thought over this. I thought you were getting better." He kissed the top of her head. "Don't worry, love… I'm going to get you the help you need." Hermione pulled away from him, furious.

"I don't need help!" She cried angrily. "I don't WANT help! Don't you get it, Remus? I want to know what happened to Harry and Ron!" Hot, angry tears ran down her cheeks, and she wiped them away hurriedly. "I'm NOT stopping until I figure it all out. I don't care what you say!"

Remus put out a hand to protect himself and slowly began to walk towards her. "Hermione, just calm down--"

Hermione made a strangled noise in the back of her throat and slapped Remus' hand away. "You're not listening!" She gathered up the two mortality boxes and started towards the door. "If you won't listen, then I'm going to find someone who will!" She slammed the door behind her, causing several of the portraits in the hall to jump. Hermione glared at the pictures before storming off down the hall. At the large gargoyle statue, Hermione stopped, straightened her robes and muttered "Red Hots". _I'll talk to Dumbledore… her always understands. Yes, Dumbledore is sure to listen._

_ *****_

"Well my dear, I'm sure there's an explanation for this." Hermione frowned at the headmaster. 

** "**It doesn't seem suspicious to you?"

Dumbledore sighed pensively. "Hermione, you have always had a sharp and inquisitive mind. But sometimes there are things that just can't be rationalized. Sometimes you just have to take things at face value and accept them for what they are. It is never easy to do this, but sometimes it's something that simply must be done." The headmaster gave his youngest professor a kindly look. "Perhaps it would be best if you just let it go." 

For a moment, Hermione just stared at him numbly. "I… I don't understand…" Dumbledore smiled sadly.

"My dear, you are still in mourning. I know it's hard not to want them to come back somehow, but the fact of the matter is that you can't bring them back, no matter how you rationalize it." The headmaster sighed again, looking every bit his age for once. "It was not their time. They should not have been taken when they were. Perhaps that is why you're so unwilling to let them go. But the fact is, sometimes these things just… happen. It's one of the more tragic facts of life, I'm afraid. All we can do is mourn their loss and hope that someday we shall see them again."

Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing. Was Dumbledore against her too? "What about the boxes, Albus? Why would Harry and Ron spell their boxes against Remus and I? And why on earth would they spell them against YOU?"

"That, my dear, it a question that only Ron and Harry would be able to answer. And I'm afraid we'll never be able to ask them."

Hermione felt tears welling up in her eyes again. Dumbledore mistook her frustration and anger for sadness over her friends' deaths. "Take heart, Hermione… Their lives may be over, but that is no reason for you to spend the rest of yours in mourning. It is not what they would have wanted." Hermione nodded slowly. It was clear to her now that no one would understand. She would have to do this on her own.

"Thank you, professor. You have been a great help."

*****

"I'm beginning to lose my patience with you, Potter." Voldemort's tall form appeared before Harry in the doorway. "I've been nothing but lenient with you so far. I'd suggest that you make this good, or my tolerance might give out." Harry tried his best not to glare disgustedly, opting instead to paste a remorseful, almost repentant look on his face. 

"I've made a decision," He said slowly and painfully. Voldemort raised an eyebrow at him but said nothing, and Harry took it as a cue for him to continue. "I've decided…" Harry felt his throat go dry, and he couldn't speak for a moment. "I've decided to give you what you want."

Voldemort was stunned. Outwardly, he only showed the slightest signs of surprise, but Harry, who'd been looking for a reaction, could see that the dark Lord was as close to being shocked as he'd ever be. Harry, encouraged, continued.

"Everything you've said was right. I have no other choice. I am dead to the world, my lover is gone, and I have nothing left." He paused. "Nothing but you."

Voldemort stepped towards the younger man. For years and years, ever since he'd seen Harry Potter as a young man, he'd lusted over him. Not only because Harry was an attractive and captivating young man, but because of what it would mean of Voldemort to take possession of something so perfect, so pure. The ultimate triumph over the light, to take their golden boy and mark him, soil him, make him his own. And now that he was getting this offer from the boy himself, who was he to turn it down? True, the boy was only doing this because he had no other option but pain and death, and he almost certainly had ulterior motives, but Voldemort was just as smart as the boy, if not smarter, and he would not let his lust control him. He was the one in charge here. He stood above Potter, looking him over appraisingly, and then, without one word to the boy, turned away. He could almost see Harry's face, creased in pained confusion at this apparent refusal. Voldemort smiled to himself, knowing that it would only increase the boy's gratitude later on if he thought that the was less of a chance of Voldemort taking him in. Voldemort's smile grew. He'd let the boy spend one more night in agony before sending his healers to him. And then… then the real fun would begin.


	4. Even if it Takes a Little Bleeding

A/N: WHAT?!? 

…

I bet y'all thought this story was a goner. Nope. In fact, I have a shit-load more of it written and almost at the ready to post. I can't recall why I didn't post this chapter… it's been sitting around for years, literally, years, waiting to be posted, but I just never did it… don't know why. But I'm glad it's here, because I've been wanting to write fic and for some reason I just _can't_ right now, so it's good to have something to entertain myself and a few hopeful die-hard readers with. Thanks to Spotted trout, for inspiring me to get my butt into gear! By the by, ST, the quote at the beginning of the first chapter is from the musical _The Secret Garden_, from a song called "I Heard Someone Crying", and the one in chapter 2 in from "Song to the Siren" by This Mortal Coil.

I hope you all re-discover this story… I hate losing readers, but I realize I've waited a long time. It was a busy… 2 YEARS? Jesus, I really don't have any excuse. Well, I'm sorry. It's here now. What else can I do?

I promise there's more coming, and soon. Enjoy for now.

-N

Chapter 3: Even if it Takes a Little Bleeding… 

_There is nothing to keep me from coming back to you cause i can picture all the pictures of you and me on your walls. _

_What would it take to make you mine forever? _

_Just your fingernails, a little game that I made up. _

_Do you know, that I never ever lose? _

_Could I cut out my liver, make a special potion to close my flat? _

_Three parts my heart. _

_Yeah, you know that I would do it in a second. With just my fingernails, a little game that I made up. _

_Do you know that I never ever lose? _

_Never lose. _

_I am not afraid of what it takes to glue you to my side even if it takes a little bleeding, so be it I would go without breathing and I don't have to justify it. _

_You just watch me. _

_I've got time to kill._

__

Hermione opened the door to the rooms she shared with Remus as quietly as she could. The lights were dim and it was well past two in the morning; surely he was asleep. She would just sneak in, get some of her stuff and—

"Hermione." Not a question, just her name in his voice from the darkness. The light beside his chair switched on. Hermione felt a pang of sadness; he'd been sitting in the dark waiting for her all this time.

"Remus," She said emotionlessly. He gave her a pained look and stood.

"I didn't mean to upset you before," He began, walking towards her. "I'm just worried about you. You're putting your heart and soul into this whole investigation, and when it all turns out to be nothing, you'll be devastated. I just don't want you to get hurt." Hermione sighed. She knew that he meant well, but she just couldn't give up.

"Remus, I understand that you're worried, but I KNOW there's something--"

Remus shook his head. "Hermione, _please_ stop this." He looked so desperate that Hermione was almost taken aback. It dawned on her suddenly that he felt almost as guilty as she did about Harry and Ron's deaths, and that she was making him relive those feelings of guilt. _Oh Remus… if only you knew that we have a chance to fix this…_ "I just want to help you," he said quietly, standing before her, just waiting for her to say or do something. Hermione looked him over slowly. This was the man that she loved, the man who she'd been sure for months now that she was going to spend the rest of her life with. And despite all of this, she was still hopelessly in love with him. It wasn't something she could just put an end to after one simple argument, no matter how important that argument was.

"You want to help me?" Hermione asked finally. "Then _believe _me. I _know_ there's something wrong, something that just isn't fitting right." Remus squeezed his eyes shut.

"Hermione, look… we're both very tired and very stressed out right now. Why don't we sleep on it, and we can go over it in the morning. Okay?" Hermione was about to protest, but then she realized just how right Remus was. As if on cue, her eyelids began to feel heavy and weighted, and she had to fight back a yawn. She nodded slowly, her eyes locking with Remus', and she stepped forward until she was leaning against him slightly, their bodies touching at every possible place. Remus wrapped his arms around her, and for the first time in weeks Hermione felt almost safe again.

"I love you," Remus whispered in her ear. Hermione smiled slightly.

"I love you too," She said, burying her face in his neck.

"We're going to be fine." He tightened his hold on her. "Just remember that."

Hermione nodded. But she couldn't help but think that she was going in one big giant circle. And she knew, deep down, that Remus would never believe her, not until she had proof.

It was then that Hermione knew exactly what she had to do. She shuddered slightly and burrowed further into Remus' embrace, unable to block out the sudden cold and the feeling of dread that had overcome her.

Harry felt slightly disoriented as he woke up from the rare deep sleep he'd been in. He couldn't feel the cold floor underneath him. His head wasn't throbbing, and he wasn't freezing from the cold of the dungeon anymore. _Perhaps I've finally gone numb,_ he thought. _Figures that this reprieve would come now, when I've already offered my last shred of dignity to Voldemort. And had it thrown back in my face._ To tell the truth, Harry was more relieved than anything that Voldemort hadn't accepted his surrender. Except for the fact that now he had no way to sway the Dark Lord's actions where Ron was concerned. Harry's heart throbbed at the thought of Ron, _his_ Ron, dead or worse at the hands of Voldemort.

As Harry's consciousness continued to drain slowly back to him, he became increasingly aware that he was NOT, in fact, numb. He could feel, and yet he did NOT feel the same, horrible floor beneath him, or the same searing pain that had constantly plagued him since he'd gotten here. Slowly, carefully, he opened his eyes.

Harry almost gasped out loud. He was in a room, a well-lit, comfortable room. He turned his head slightly, bracing himself for the pain that came from moving, and almost passing out when he felt none. He looked at the thing he was lying on. Bed. He was lying on a bed. His arms and legs were strapped down, but he was lying on a bed. After a moment, he tried lifting his head. He marveled at his success for a moment before staring down at himself. He was completely naked, but that didn't bother Harry at the moment. He was too preoccupied with the sight of is body to even pay attention to his nudity. Where the skin was once broken, bruised and scarred, it was now completely healed. His feet, misshapen from being broken, healed, and re-broken again, were back to normal, as were his hands, arms, legs and fingers. His skin was pale, and he was far too thin, but he was in one solid piece again. Harry wondered if his face was back to normal again.

For a moment, Harry reveled in the painless feeling, the wonderful sensation of feeling healthy and warm, before he remembered Ron. Instantly, Harry felt guilty. He knew the price for being this way, and he knew that if they ever escaped, if Harry managed to save Ron and himself this way, Ron would probably never want him again. But he didn't care. All that mattered now was that Ron was safe and alive. Harry was almost certain that he could keep him that way by doing this. Hopefully Ron would forgive him in time.

Harry turned his head towards the door at the sound of a padlock being opened. A masked death eater entered. Harry was sure it was Lucius Malfoy; no one else had seen him since his imprisonment, probably for security reasons. The entire wizarding world must have thought him and Ron dead; there could be no chance of proving them otherwise. The death eater stood over him menacingly.

"All better?" Asked a cold voice. Harry could now identify the death eater as Malfoy beyond a shadow of a doubt. He glared.

"Malfoy," He hissed, surprised at how good his voice sounded. _Voldemort must have hired a master healer for me,_ he thought, slightly stunned.

"Good guess, Potter. Hats off to you." Malfoy's sarcastic remark so reminded Harry of Draco that he had to remind himself that this was Malfoy senior he was speaking to. "Well Potter, you appear to be up to par again." Lucius ran a gloved hand down Harry's bare side. Harry was suddenly very aware of his nakedness. "Time for a test run," Lucius said venomously as he removed his mask. Harry flinched and closed his eyes as Malfoy's hand traveled further down his body. "No," said Lucius sternly, and Harry's eyes opened with a wave of the older man's wand. Harry found himself unable to close them again, much to his dismay. Lucius grinned savagely. "I want you to see this."

Hermione wrapped her cloak tightly around her small frame as she hurried through the darkness. It was the first week of November now, and the nights were starting to get quite chilly. Hermione ran in the shadows towards the back of the school property, so as not to be seen by anyone looking out of the windows. She ran quickly towards the property's edge, to the graveyard, where several professors, headmasters, and former students were buried. Including Harry and Ron.

She'd been to their graves enough times to find them easily, even in the darkness. Hermione took out her wand and whispered "Lumos" as quietly as she could, shedding a small amount of light on the graves. She stopped and stood still for a moment, contemplating one last time the thing that she was about to do.

Ever since that night one week ago when she'd found the mortality boxes, Hermione had been uncertain that Harry and Ron were actually dead. It just didn't make sense… all of the evidence was faulty, and their mortality boxes wouldn't open. They couldn't have been spelled against everyone… Hermione had gotten several more people to try them, including Sirius, Hagrid, Neville, Dean, almost the Entire Hogwarts Faculty and the whole Weasley family. None of them had had any luck. Hermione had even gotten complete strangers to try them, people who the boxes couldn't have been spelled against, since Harry and Ron hadn't ever met them, and all she'd gotten were several people muttering angrily about biting lion hinges. And so she'd come to a startling yet logical decision; Harry and Ron weren't dead. Lost? Maybe. Imprisoned? Probably. In comas or beaten unconscious? There was a chance. But not dead. The autopsies, obviously, were fake… there were too many flaws. And that left the bodies as the only hard evidence. Bodies that, obviously, weren't Harry and Ron's, since the two of them were alive and the corpses most definitely were not. Hermione's guess was that they were mock corpses, bodies created out of thin air by powerful Dark Magic. Hermione had spent the past few days researching the Dark Arts through books from the restricted section, and she'd found the spell for creating a mock corpse. It was a long, draining process, and only a very powerful dark wizard could perform it. Hermione didn't even have the capabilities to perform such a complicated spell. But Voldemort did. A wizard with his power could make a mock corpse so convincing that even a skilled mediwitch like Poppy Pomfrey would believe it was a real body. The only disadvantage of mock corpses was that after the first moon cycle, the body disappears, leaving only dust in its place.

Hermione was almost entirely certain that Voldemort had used mock corpses in Harry and Ron's place. All she had to do was dig the coffins up and open them to prove it. Certainly, all she'd find would be dust. And if not… Hermione shuddered, pulling her cloak even tighter around herself.

"Alright," She said under her breath. "Come on Hermione… it's now or never." She raised her wand, pointed it at the earth, and muttered the unearthing spell. It hit the ground in front of Ron's gravestone and ricocheted back towards her. Hermione ducked to avoid being hit, and then stood up straight again, staring at the grave in bewilderment. Something was blocking her spell. Someone hadn't wanted anyone to disturb the grave with magic of any kind. Hermione couldn't begin to guess if it was Voldemort or Dumbledore or both who had cast the protection spells on the graves, but either way, she couldn't ask for them to be removed. She sighed heavily and removed a quill from her cloak, transfiguring it into a huge shovel. Shaking her head, she began to dig furiously.

"Professor Lupin!" Remus' head snapped toward the sound and scent of the student who had just burst unannounced into the staff lounge. It was late at night… all students should have been in bed, and yet here was this young girl running into the lounge sounding frantic and smelling of fear and panic. Remus stood, walking towards the girl. _Violet Brown_, he recalled, remembering both the girl and her older sister, who had been his student almost a decade ago.

"Violet," Remus said kindly, putting his hands on the girls trembling shoulders. "Calm down… what is it?"

Violet looked at him fearfully. "It's Professor Granger, Sir," She said breathlessly. "I was looking out the window when I saw her… she's in the graveyard, and she's…" The girl broke off. Remus closed his eyes as if in pain.

"Violet, go get the Headmaster and tell him to meet me out in the graveyard. Then go straight back to your dormitory and go to sleep. Is that clear?"

Violet nodded solemnly. "Yes sir," She said before taking off down the hall in the direction of the headmaster's office. Remus grabbed his cloak from its spot by the door and began to run towards the back of the school. _Oh gods… Hermione, what now?_

Dun dun duuuuuh…

Sorry again about the delay. Review! Assuage my guilt!

P.S: Spotted Trout, the lyrics this time are from Saves the Day's "A Drag in D Flat". Thought I'd save you the time and just tell you now;) -N


	5. Exposition

A/N: I'm posting this now because I left y'all out on a limb without a paddle… or somethin'… 

Plus, my roommate's boyfriend is here from Michigan for the weekend, so I'm voluntarily homeless, and that means I'm away from my computer till Tuesday. So this is an early present.

Thanks to those who reviewed… I can tell I'm going to have to build this story's following again. Grr… oh well, thanks to everyone, you guys keep this going.

And to hammiecat, who asked to have the end posted soon… oh, sheeyeah right! This story's not even a third finished. It's gonna be lo-o-ong. But I'll still post new chapters as quickly as possible. I hope that's enough to sustain you, and I apologize for the fact that I am, for once, writing out a story with a plot that requires developing. It's not my usual style, but I'm kinda feeling good about it. So hold out for, say, twenty more chapters, m'dear, and you shall have your ending ;)

Well, enjoy. It's not the longest of chapters, but it's an important one!

Cheers,

-Nymph

Chapter 4: Exposition 

Hermione was so immersed in her task that she didn't even notice that someone else was in the graveyard until he grabbed her arms on either side. Hermione let out a terrified scream and whirled around, hitting her attacker in the shins with her shovel. She realized who it was a fraction of a second later.

"Shit! Remus, what are you doing here?" Remus, bent over in pain, looked up at her as if she were crazy.

"What am _I_ doing? I should ask you the same question!" He grabbed her shovel and gestured towards the sizable hole she'd made in Ron's grave. "What _is _this? You can't just dig up their bodies… it's… it's sick, it's insane!"

"Remus…" Hermione began calmly, only to be cut off by her lover.

"No, Hermione… don't try to rationalize this…"

"REMUS!" Hermione grabbed his arms rather forcefully. "It's okay… let me explain!"

"Explain?" Remus shook his head. "Hermione, you're digging up DEAD BODIES!"

"But that's just it," Hermione said, practically laughing now. "They're not dead. That's what I've been trying to tell you! This is the only way I could make all of you see…"

Remus broke away from her, taking several steps back. "Have you lost your mind? They were buried! You saw--"

"Mock corpses," Hermione said quickly. "I've done the research. Remus, I KNOW I'm right!"

"What is going on here?" Both Remus and Hermione turned towards the source of the voice. Dumbledore had arrived. "Miss Granger… what have you done?" Hermione glared. They still weren't listening! Dumbledore looked at the grave solemnly. "Hermione… what could have possibly made you resort to this?"

"If only you'd listened to me in the first place, I wouldn't have _had_ to resort to this!"

Remus shook his head quietly while Dumbledore looked at Hermione with a strange, sad sort of disappointment. "Obviously, my child, you're suffering horribly due to the deaths of your friends." He took her gently by the shoulders. "I'm afraid I have no choice but to say what I'm about to say."

Hermione regarded Dumbledore with a measured amount of suspicion. "What are you--" Dumbledore raised a hand, cutting her off.

"Hermione, you are very upset right now. I understand what a trying time this has been for you, and the stress seems to have finally caught up with you." Hermione rolled her eyes. Remus stepped up behind her.

"No one is blaming you, love," He said as gently as he could. He was still rather shaken himself at this unexpected display, but he didn't want to upset Hermione any further. She was obviously in a very precarious mental state as it was. Remus cursed himself for not having seen the warning signs before this. Hermione turned to look at him.

"Of course they aren't," She said rather angrily, "What is there to blame me for? I haven't DONE anything wrong!"

"Hermione…" Remus tried to approach the subject as carefully as her could. "Darling, you were digging up graves…" Hermione shook her head.

"You're still not listening!"

Dumbledore gave both Hermione and Remus stern looks as if to remind them who was in charge. They both stopped talking rather quickly.

"As I was saying," The headmaster continued, "You are under an immense amount of pressure, and I think perhaps it would be best if you took some time for yourself, to rest up and get better." Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"Are you…" She stopped mid-sentence, unable to continue for a few moments. "Are you firing me?" She whispered incredulously.

"No, no, my dear," Dumbledore said quickly (A little too quickly, thought Hermione) "Nobody is firing anyone. I am merely suggesting that you take a short break. We'll find a replacement for a while until you're feeling fit to teach again, but for now…"

Hermione stared at her former Headmaster with tears in her eyes. "You can't fire me," She whispered desperately, "I was just trying to--"

Dumbledore nodded understandingly. "I know. It's hard to understand how two people like Harry and Ron could possibly be gone forever… you were just trying to justify the things you couldn't understand. You've always been that way, always needing to know more. It's understandable that, in your heightened state of emotional anxiety--"

"I would go crazy and dig up a grave because that's what ANY logical person would do?" Hermione laughed sardonically. "Thanks, Albus, for taking my side. You've always had faith in me, haven't you?" The headmaster, slightly taken aback, was rendered speechless. "I mean, of COURSE I'm just anxious… that must be the reason for all this insanity. You have to be right." She paused, looking him straight in the eye. "Or maybe," She said thoughtfully, slowly, "Maybe YOU'RE the one trying to justify the things that you can't understand."

Albus looked at his former student-turned professor with a mix of shock and disappointment. "Hermione, if you need to discuss this with me when you're feeling less hostile, you are more than welcome. You know where I'll be." And with that, he turned and walked away from the graveyard towards the castle.

When the headmaster was out of earshot, Hermione turned to Remus.

"Well I suppose you have something to say about this too," She said, crossing her arms expectantly. Remus regarded her with a look that Hermione guessed was part worry and part sadness.

"Hermione, You could have come to me first. We could have talked about this…"

"Talked?" Hermione laughed, a short, bitter, humorless laugh. "We NEVER talk about anything regarding this… this…" She gestured wildly at the graves, "About them. I TRY to talk to you about it, but you never listen, and all that happens is you talk and I end up agreeing with everything you say because you won't even listen to my point of view!"

"Hermione, you're very emotional right now… I think maybe we should wait to discuss this until you're feeling--"

"No! You wanted me to talk to you about it, well fine Remus, I'm talking!"

Fear joined the range of emotions crossing Remus' face. "Hermione, you're in a very delicate state right now, and I think that--"

"I'm not crazy!" Hermione screamed suddenly, lunging at him. "Why won't you listen? I'm not crazy! I know what I'm talking about! Why won't you let me prove it?" Hermione pounded her fists against Remus' chest, hurling herself at him with all her might, but the werewolf was stronger than her, and barely moved beneath her fists despite her efforts. Hermione continued to scream and punch until she couldn't anymore. She was suddenly exhausted, her muscles aching from digging, hitting and overall fatigue. All the energy drained from her, Hermione fell against Remus' chest and sobbed dryly into his robes.

Remus looked down at the woman he loved, now leaning as if broken against his chest. When had things gone so horribly wrong? This was Hermione, his Hermione, whom he'd loved more than anything else in his life for what felt like almost forever now, Hermione, for whom he would take every unmentionable curse without a sound, and yet it wasn't Hermione. This wasn't the brilliant young woman he knew, this pathetic, broken, frail thing leaning against him. All the life had been sapped from her being, and Remus couldn't help but feel guilty for not seeing it before now. He brought his arms up and encircled her with them, holding her to him in a simple, protective embrace. _How could I let this happen? _

At the feeling of Remus' arms encircling her, Hermione began to sob even harder, this time letting the tears fall freely. She had gone too far. She could have tried to talk to him more… she could have made him understand. And now… now she'd gone and ruined everything. She'd been so sure… so very sure, but now… She just didn't know anything anymore. Maybe she WAS just crazy. Maybe she just missed Harry and Ron so much that she'd imagined them back to life. Maybe somewhere along the line, she'd lost her grip on reason, on logic. And she'd come close to losing everything else; her job, her friends, the only man she'd ever loved… she was so close to losing it all. But Remus was still here.

"Remus…" She whispered hoarsely. Remus tightened his grip on her, and she began to cry even harder. "I'm sorry," She said between sobs, "I'm so, so sorry…"

"Shh," He said, rubbing her back soothingly. "It's okay. We're okay… everything's going to be alright now…"

"I attacked you," She said, ashamed. "I hurt you."

Remus kissed the top of her head worriedly. "You didn't… I'm fine. Don't worry." Hermione sobbed into his robes, which were already starting to feel damp. "I love you… you don't ever have to go through anything like this alone. I'm here… I'll help you."

"I love you," Hermione repeated through her tears. "So much." Remus just stood there holding her until her sobs became no more than tiny shudders and her tears were all dried up.

"Let's go back inside," He said gently, guiding her carefully out of the graveyard. Beside him, Hermione nodded numbly and began walking back towards the castle.

"MALFOY!" All the Death eaters' heads turned at the same time towards the thundering voice of the Dark Lord. The voice, at times so eerily calm and enticing, was now at a furious pitch that they all knew quite well. The Dark Lord had many moods, and over the years, the senior Death eaters had learned to distinguish between these moods quite easily. Right now, their master was on the warpath.

Lucius Malfoy quickly hid the look of terror that momentarily crossed his face. So quick was the frighteningly handsome man at this that the only person in the room to notice his true reaction to the Dark Lord's voice was Severus Snape. "I'd better go," Lucius said importantly.

"Don't bother," said and angry voice from the doorway. There stood Voldemort, a furious expression on his now-handsome face. "Malfoy, outside, NOW."

Lucius stood and followed the Dark Lord, trying his best to hide his anxiety. Severus narrowed his eyes and slipped out of the room as inconspicuously as he could. He started off in the opposite direction from Lucius and Voldemort, heading quickly to another corridor, which he knew would take him to a room just around the corner from where The Dark Lord and his favorite Death eater were. He could listen to their conversation from there.

Severus leaned towards the half-open door. He could just barely make out the words Malfoy and the dark Lord were exchanging. Well, actually, Malfoy wasn't saying much. Voldemort was very angry with his servant, and he was making it known.

"I should have you killed, Malfoy. You were careless and idiotic. I SPECIFICALLY ordered you not to let anyone touch him except for me and me alone. He is MINE, Lucius. I don't want spoiled goods."

"With all due respect, My Lord, I don't really think you would have been the first to--"

"Silence, you fool!" Yelled Voldemort, silencing the other man immediately. "That," He continued more quietly, "Is not the point. The point is that he belongs to ME now, and no one else. I have waited years for this, Lucius, and it has finally come within my grasp. You will not make another mistake like this again. If you do, it will be the very last mistake you ever make."

"Yes, My Lord."

"And if you've damaged the boy in any way—any way at all-- I will cause you to suffer ten times as much as him. Is that clear?"

There was a short pause before Lucius replied, "Yes, Lord Voldemort."

"I'll be gone a rather long while, I should think," Voldemort said contemplatively. "To think… soon I will have conquered the very boy who once conquered me. I am the victor, Lucius. It is a great day for the Dark. Finally, the downfall of the great Harry Potter."

It was all Severus could do to stay on his feet. _My God… it CAN'T be…_


	6. Satin in a Coffin

A/N: Well, I'm back in my humble (and I do mean humble… mereschino, you know what I'm talkin' 'bout!) abode… my poor roomie's depressed 'cause the boyfriend left, but she'll be okay. I, for one, am trying not to be overjoyed at the prospect of sleeping in my own bed, surrounded by my glorious strings of lights and my pretty French black cat posters. Definitely a better writing environment.

Don't expect anything from me for a couple days… I have a friggin' HUGE composition project due on Thursday, and I'm working solid until then, at which point I shall most likely collapse in a pathetic, whimpering heap until Katie decides to take pity on me and heft me into bed. After that, I intend to sleep until my mind returns to the state in which it forms phrases with words instead of with notes. I'm serious, it's going to kill me, this one. You never realize the ease of writing with words until you are forced to write without them. But ooh, it's gonna be so NICE… to me darling singers, we must get together and try this… it's a three-part piece in strict diatonic harmony (dorian, in case you wondered) set to Robert Frost's "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening". Which brings me to my point, and I do have one… I've come up with a TITLE!!! YAY! This story shall hence forth be known as "Lovely, Dark and Deep". If you know the poem, you'll get the reference. So…

IMPORTANT!!!

THE TITLE OF THIS SOTRY IS CHANGING ON THE NEXT POST!!! So, if you can't find it, you'll know why. It will hence forth be "LOVELY, DARK AND DEEP". So there. Thanks to all who submitted title suggestions… s.s.harry, you'll notice I used yours (Satin in a Coffin, by Modest Mouse) as a chapter title… I think it fits perfectly with this chapter, you'll see why…

Unrelated topic of the day: today I heard a man sing tuvan chants, and he sang a drone and the overtones… SIMULTANIOUSLY! More than one note at a time. Jesus. I am nothing. I'm so small.

Anyway, here's the chap. I hope you enjoy it. It's getting' hairy, folks. Tee hee!

-Nymph

Chapter 5: Satin in a Coffin 

_"…You were laying on the carpet, _

_Like you're satin in a coffin. _

_You said "Do you believe what you're seeing?" _

_Yeah right now but no that often. _

_Are you dead or are you sleepin'? _

_Are you dead or are you sleepin'? _

_Are you dead or are you sleepin'?"___

Hermione walked down the halls, all too aware of the eerie silence that surrounded her. Ever since the previous night in the graveyard, she'd been surrounded in silence. It followed her, it preceded her, it enfolded her wherever she went. The students whispered, the portraits eyed her suspiciously. On the single occasion she'd ventured into the teachers' lounge, her peers had ceased all conversation when she'd entered the room, and hadn't said two words among them until she left. Everyone avoided her glance, with the exception of Snape, who had fixed her with a strange frown. She fled to her and Remus' rooms, holding back her tears until the door was firmly locked and then falling into Remus' embrace. They had agreed that until she was feeling better, it would be best for her to go back to Remus' house rather than stay at Hogwarts.

And so here she was, on her way to see the Headmaster and tell him of her plans. And still, she was enveloped by that awful silence. At least for the moment, Hermione could take comfort in the fact that this silence was simply due to the fact that she was completely alone, nothing more.

Or at least, she had thought she was alone until a pair of strong hands grabbed her and pulled her into an abandoned classroom. Hermione gasped and attempted to scream, but there was already a hand over her mouth. Terror raced through Hermione's veins as her captor kicked the door shut and held her tightly against him to keep her still. She struggled against his grasp, but it was all in vain; the grip he held her in was like a vice, and she could feel steady muscles moving beneath the arms of the black robe her captor was wearing. Defeated, Hermione held still.

"I believe you," said an all-too-familiar voice in her ear. Hermione immediately relaxed in her captor's grasp. She knew that voice… how could she not? Everyone knew that voice… it was the voice that had elicited feelings of terror in her as a first year, feelings of defiance as a second, third and fourth year, and later on had caused undefined stirrings which Hermione still preferred not to analyze but nonetheless could hardly deny (she was only a woman, after all). As she relaxed, her captor let her go, and she turned around to stare into the face of Severus Snape.

"What on earth do you think you're doing, besides giving me a heart attack? You know, if someday you were to attack someone who was a little less distracted and a little more pre— wait a minute, what did you say?"

Severus regarded her with an entirely humorless expression. "If you're quite finished with the lecture, Miss Granger… I said, 'I believe you'."

Try as she might, Hermione could come up with no better response than, "I beg your pardon?" Snape frowned darkly.

"Once again, your cognitive powers astonish me. Fifty points to Gryffindor, and a pat on the back for Hogwarts' most brilliant former student." Hermione scowled back at her colleague.

"What do you mean you believe me? Are you going to explain, or are you just going to insult me all night?"

"As much as I'd like that, and believe me, I would, there simply isn't enough time." Severus raised an eyebrow as Hermione sat down on a desk. "Don't make yourself too comfortable… we're leaving very shortly."

"What is this about?" Hermione said, now quite frustrated.

"It's about your friends, Granger… Potter and Weasley, to be exact, and their whereabouts." Hermione froze.

Snape could have laughed at the expression on the girl's face; in any other situation, he would have been sorely tempted to. The child was so used to everyone thinking she'd gone mad, including Lupin, who was probably half-insane himself, and Dumbledore, whose level of insanity was definitely one for the books, that she'd almost convinced herself.

"Don't look so shocked, Granger. I thought you were smarter than to let other people's opinions of you influence your own opinions of yourself." Later, Hermione would spend many hours contemplating this remark and whether it was meant as a compliment or an insult. At the time, however, she was far too shocked to even let it cross her mind.

"What do you mean their whereabouts?" She whispered. "Are they…"

Snape fixed her with a hard look. "Surely you can't have changed your mind overnight, Granger. Last night you were positive they were alive, or so I've heard. It's not like you to be so easily swayed."

"How do you know?" Hermione asked, hardly believing what she was hearing. "How on earth…?"

"I've been watching both you and the Dark Lord over the past month or so… Your clues, combined with things that have been said on the other side, have led me to the same conclusions as you. And last night, both our suspicions were confirmed. Harry Potter is alive."

Hermione was silent for a moment. "I don't believe it," She said finally. "How…"

"He's been a prisoner all this time. I can only assume Weasley is in the same position, although what use he is to Voldemort, I can't begin to guess."

"And of what use is Harry to Voldemort?"

Snape almost had to look away from her at this, but he held her hopeful gaze with his own cold, level one and muttered, "Don't ask." Hermione shut up rather quickly.

"What do we do now?" She said after a few moments. There was a look of determination on her face and a gleam in her eyes that told him her mind was back on track again and just as sharp as ever. Snape almost smiled again. The old Hermione Granger whom he'd taught for seven years was now back in front of him again. As much pain and torture as the little know-it-all had cause him over the time he'd known her, he greatly preferred her to the moping, half-crazy ghost of a woman who'd been floating around the school for several months in her place. Although, he preferred basically anybody to that pathetic excuse for a human.

"We prove to everyone that you're not completely insane. And then we wait."

"Wait for what?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "Idiot girl. We wait for a plan."

Once again, all Hermione could think of was, "What?"

"Honestly, I thought you'd know by now, having saved the whole bloody planet's ass along side Potter all those millions of times… You can never come up with a good plan, not a truly brilliant one that will work. You have to wait for it to come to you." Severus shook his head. "Follow me… we don't have any time to waste." Hermione followed her colleague from the room. When they'd been walking through the castle for a good five minutes, Hermione spoke up.

"Professor, where are we going?"

Snape didn't turn to face her, so she couldn't see his expression, but Hermione would have guess that he was scowling when he said, "To prove that you're not stark raving mad."

"I've been trying to do that for months now… I'd like to see you try."

Snape turned to face her and pulled out his wand. "Stay still," He ordered, and Hermione did as she was told. Snape muttered a spell at her, and then at himself, And Hermione gasped as they both disappeared. "Let this be a lesson to you, Miss Granger… sneaking around in graveyards only works when you can't be seen." She heard him mutter another spell, and suddenly she could see him again, although when she looked down at her

own hands, all she saw was the floor. _We must only be visible to each other._

Hermione mentally kicked herself as they headed out the door towards the graveyard where she'd been almost twenty-four hours earlier. _Why didn't** I**__ think of that?_

__

"That won't work." Hermione stood behind Snape, who had his wand raised above Harry's grave, and shot a frustrated look at his back. Snape just rolled his eyes and muttered some sort of spell that Hermione had never heard before. She stepped around him to stand above the headstone so that she could see what he was doing. Snape had his eyes shut tightly and appeared to be concentrating very hard. After a long while, he opened his eyes again.

"A simple ward… one of Dumbledore's own invention. Fortunately I know how to break it." Snape set to work while Hermione wandered around idly, examining the inscriptions on random gravestones. After about five minutes, she heard Snape call to her.

"Are you going to help? I don't have all night!"

Hermione grumbled to herself and hurried back to the graves. "What do we do now?"

Snape examined the grave closely. "Make a hole as quickly as we possibly can." Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Okay…" She raised her wand. "Gapus Gradualus." The dirt on the grave started to disappear gradually. Snape glared at her.

"I said quickly, Granger. As in, rapidly, fast, in a speedy manner."

Hermione glared back. "I'm only doing it this way because I don't want to blow a hole in the coffin!" She looked into the hole, which was actually starting to get quite deep. "It looks like it's about four feet down now… it shouldn't be too much longer before we hit the coffin…" As she said the words, a shiny black lid appeared. Hermione raised her wand quickly and ended the spell before the coffin lid was destroyed. "Okay… what now?"

Snape looked into the hole and raised his wand. "Wingardium Leviosa," He said, managing to make it sound like an insult (_How DOES he do that?_ Hermione wondered irritably). "And _you _are responsible for the education of young children. I weep for our future." Hermione just scowled at him, and then jumped as he let the coffin go, dropping it to the ground a little too close to her toes.

"Be careful!" She admonished. For a moment, neither of them said anything as they stared down at the coffin. Hermione was certain now that Harry and Ron were alive, and yet…

"Oh, honestly," Snape muttered, raising his wand. "Alohomora!" The coffin lid flew open. Hermione hesitated for a moment, and then leaned over to peer inside…

**Next Chapter:**

Remus felt his heart jump to his throat. What was going on? Surely Severus wouldn't have convinced Hermione to do anything risky or stupid… Remus had begun to trust the man after so many years of hating him. But now here he was, and here Hermione was, and both were acting quite strangely. Remus hoped against all hope that this didn't have to do with what he though it did, but there was very little chance of that.

"Severus convinced me not to give up," Hermione said almost laughingly. "Isn't that rich? He convinced me to keep looking… you never know what you might find. Want to know what I found, Albus? No? Remus?" she turned to him, and he couldn't speak, couldn't make himself answer. "Fine… I'm going to show you anyway."

Oh, god, am I evil! Sorry, loves. Soon…


	7. Both sides, Now

A/N: thank god it's over. 

No, not the story… my week. It was brutal. And now, now ladies and gents, its Saturday night. Or, my version of. I don't really get Saturdays. So Thursday is the closest to, really.

PS: have any of you ever seen "Are You Afraid of the Dark"? It was a show that used to air on YTV here in Canada in the nineties, when I was a kid, and it was all about these kids who'd get together in the middle of the night in this dark, scary forest and tell creepy stories, and those stories would be the episode for that week. Well, in case you have, you'll probably find this nifty… we're having "Are You Afraid of the Dark" night tonight, and it's hosted by Dave, one of our Dons. Now, Dave's a pretty nifty guy, and I've hung out with him a couple times, but I just found out something totally weird and awesome: Dave was a member of the Midnight Society!!! The whole time I was watching AYAOTD as a kid, Dave was on the show, and I never even knew it was him until two days ago! Isn't that AWESOME?!? I LOVE him!

Anyway, back to the story… thanks for the comments and reviews… it's always helpful to hear what people think. A few personal replies:

**HermioneRemus4eva**: Yeah, I know I wrecked the suspense, but I wasn't feeling like I could be that cruel to you guys again. And about Snape's good side… it's going to be important. Tee hee!

**Snakeyes:** I intend to keep it up… glad you liked it! And Draco… hm, I have a plan for him, but it's somewhat malleable… what do YOU think should happen to him? )

**Mereschino:** Crocheted presents are awesome. I'm glad I married you. You're paying off.

Anyway, enjoy it. It's longer than the last one. I'm trying…

-Nymph

PS: Chapter quote and title courtesy of Joni Mitchell, "Both Sides, Now"

Chapter 6: Both sides, now "Now old friends are acting strange 

_They shake their heads, they say I've changed_

_Well something's lost, but something's gained_

_In living every day…"_

Remus stepped into Dumbledore's office tentatively, peering around the doorway. The old wizard caught sight of the werewolf and got up from his seat behind the desk.

"Ah, Remus… how are you this evening?"

"Fine, fine…" Remus looked around distractedly. "Yourself?"

"I am… quite well, considering." Dumbledore smiled kindly at his former student. "What was it you wanted?"

Remus frowned. This didn't look very good… "I was just wondering if Hermione had been in to see you yet. She left a couple hours ago to come see you, and I've been looking for her."

Dumbledore looked concerned yet understanding at the same time. "No, I have not seen Miss Granger tonight… perhaps we should try and find her."

Remus was about to reply when there came a loud banging sound from the spiral staircase that lead to Dumbledore's office, followed by some incomprehensible yelling. Remus jumped, Fawkes flapped his wings inside his cage, and whomever was in the staircase yelled some more. Only Dumbledore appeared calm. The old wizard lifted his wand and muttered a spell, unlocking the door to his office.

"You can come in, Severus," he said, and Remus wondered how, exactly, the old man had known who was in the staircase. The door swung open, and Snape entered, followed by…

"Hermione!" Remus ran across the room and took her hands, only just then realizing how worried he'd been. "Is everything alright? We were just wondering where you'd-" Remus stopped short, seeing the deadly look in her eyes. "What is it?" He asked warily. Hermione just glared and stepped towards Dumbledore.

"You told me to come and discuss things when I was feeling less hostile," she began. "Well, I'm _not,_ but I think things need to be discussed anyway, and I think they need to be discussed right now." Dumbledore regarded her evenly, not a trace of the trademark gleam in his eyes. When he didn't reply, Hermione continued. "I was fully intending to resign tonight, seeing as everyone here seems to have lost complete and total faith in anything I have to say. But then… then I found a-" she paused to look at Severus "Slightly skewed bit of trust in the oddest of places."

Remus felt his heart jump to his throat. What was going on? Surely Severus wouldn't have convinced Hermione to do anything risky or stupid… Remus had begun to trust the man after so many years of hating him. But now here he was, and here Hermione was, and both were acting quite strangely. Remus hoped against all hope that this didn't have to do with what he though it did, but there was very little chance of that.

"Severus convinced me not to give up," Hermione said almost laughingly. "Isn't that rich? He convinced me to keep looking… you never know what you might find. Want to know what I found, Albus? No? Remus?" she turned to him, and he couldn't speak, couldn't make himself answer. "Fine… I'm going to show you anyway." She waved her wand, and the door to the office few open again with a loud crash as a heavy wooden coffin soared through it. Hermione slammed the coffin to the ground, looked around the room, and then, with a simple twist of the wrist, the lid to the coffin flew open. It was like a spell had been broken; Dumbledore stood up angrily, and Remus darted forward, grabbing Hermione's wand arm and trying to stop her. But it was already too late. Remus couldn't see what was in the coffin from where he was standing, but Hermione, standing still in his arms, looked up at him knowingly. Remus looked over at Dumbledore.

The old wizard was standing there, the look of anger on his face dissolving to one of shock and disbelief. Slowly, he stepped around his desk and over to where the open coffin sat. He knelt down, reached into the coffin, and stood up, something clenched in his fist. Then, ever so slowly, he opened his hand, and Remus watched, dumbfounded, as mere specks of gray dust floated back towards the coffin.

_Dust. Only dust._

Snape, who had previously been standing still and unnoticed by the door, now crossed his arms and strode towards the three of them. "Well, it only makes sense… she's never really been wrong before, has she?"

Dumbledore looked around the room at the other three, his eyes finally coming to rest on Hermione. "Well," the old wizard said, sounding almost completely deflated, "It looks as though I owe you an apology, Hermione." Hermione shook her head.

"Don't bother… I've been proven right now, and that's enough for me." She pulled away from Remus, who didn't even try to stop her, and began to start for the door.

"If there is anything I can do to make amends…"

Hermione stopped and turned to face him again, her face hard. "I suggest that you start by finding yourself a new Arithmancy Professor. I'm through." And with that, she stepped through the door, slamming it behind her. The three wizards were silent for a moment, until the stillness was disturbed by the sound of Snape laughing. It was a completely humorless laugh, as one would have expected.

"Excuse me… I feel I have to go congratulate our Miss Granger on a job well done…"

"Severus!" Snape turned sharply at the sound of Dumbledore's voice.

"Yes, Albus?"

The old wizard couldn't force the look of disbelief from his eyes. "Why didn't you come to me?"

Snape shook his head. "If I had, neither of you would have seen Miss Granger as anything but mentally unstable. She had to prove this to you herself, or she'd feel as though you didn't trust her for the rest of her life. And I _know_ what it's like to not be trusted by people you admire." With that, Severus turned and strode out the door, leaving Remus and Dumbledore to consider their next move alone.

When Remus stepped into their rooms, Hermione was already packed. She sat on top of her large blue suitcase, twining her fingers together and biting her lip like she always did when she was nervous or upset. Remus felt a familiar dull ache in his chest as he took in the scene.

"You're leaving."

Hermione looked up at him, and he could see that she'd been crying. "That was what I said back there, wasn't it?'

"You said you weren't going to teach anymore, you never mentioned anything about leaving."

"What did you expect, Remus?" Hermione looked as if she was about to go over the edge any minute. "That everything would be okay? That I'd forget how you and Dumbledore and everyone else treated me? That I'd just be fine with a simple apology?" Hermione shook her head. "No, Remus… that's not the way it works."

Remus didn't know what to say to this. He tried his best to come up with some argument, _any _argument, that would help him, but he couldn't think of anything. He HAD been distrustful… he'd barely even listened to her ideas because they were so ludicrous. But now they turned out to be right. He suddenly felt very ashamed of himself. "I can't imagine what you must feel like right now," He began, not able to look her in the eye. "Everyone turned against you, even me, and that must be the worst feeling in the world. I know it hurts to feel betrayed, and to think that I caused you that feeling is…" Remus couldn't even think of an appropriate description for how low he felt. "…well, it's horrible. Unthinkable. I would never want to cause you that kind of pain. I'm really very sorry. Sorrier than you can imagine."

Hermione looked at him silently. It was one of the best apologies she'd ever heard, and she knew that he meant every word of it, but she was still upset and hurt. Slowly, she got up from on top of the suitcase and walked towards him. "Give me a reason why I should ease _your_ pain when you hurt me so badly." Remus shook his head, and Hermione knew that he couldn't think of a reason because there wasn't one. "Well then. There you go." She knew she was being needlessly harsh, but she was angry enough not to care. She grabbed her suitcase and started towards the door.

"Where will you go?" these words stopped Hermione in her tracks. She didn't know exactly where she was going, only that she need to get away. Maybe she'd talk to Severus… he knew where Harry and Ron were, after all… surely he could give her some ideas.

"I'm not sure. I'll let you know."

Remus felt his heart pounding in his throat. Even after all of this, he still loved, still needed her in exactly the same way as before and maybe even more than that. "Hermione…" He began. She turned to look at him, and he thought that for a moment he could see sadness behind the anger. "I love you," He said, feeling his throat close up. Hermione's eyes softened a bit.

"I love you too, Remus… but I don't know if I can forgive you." Remus closed his eyes and turned away, not wanting to watch as she left him.

"Are you _mad_?" Hermione flinched at the tone of Severus Snape's voice. She'd heard that one before, although usually it was directed at Neville, back when she was a student. It took her a moment to recall that she was no longer a student, and that she could yell right back if she wanted to. Instead, she opted for glaring.

"I suppose you have a better idea?"

"_Any_ idea is a better idea than that!" Snape started pacing. "You can't just go marching into Voldemort's lair. There are death eaters guarding every entrance, and unless they know who you are, it's useless to even try."

Hermione shook her head in frustration. "There has to be a way for me to get in."

Severus sighed, defeated. "You really _have_ lost your mind, haven't you?" Hermione glared in answer. "All right… since you seem so determined to kill yourself, there may be a way to get you in. But I strongly suggest that you bring back up… Of course I'm sure Lupin was already a part of this plan…" Severus narrowed his eyes at the look that crossed Hermione's face at the sound of Remus' name. It was then that he noticed the suitcase. "Ahh… I see now…"

Hermione shook her head. "I sincerely doubt that you do."

"Hermione…" Severus sighed, hating what he was about to do. "Listen carefully, because I'm only going to tell you this once. Life is short. Too short to hold every little idiotic thing a person does against them. If we all left the ones we love because they mess up every now and then, no one would ever be together." Severus paused, trying to keep his usual air about him. "The best advice I can give you is to love the people you love despite all of the stupid things they've done. Because in the end, those things don't make you love them any less."

When Hermione looked at her former professor after he'd finished, it was with new eyes. After he was done speaking, his face went back to its usual hard mask, but Hermione had seen the look in his eyes, and she knew what it meant. "You really do love him, don't you?" She asked quietly. Snape's eyes shot up to hers, panicked for a moment before turning hard and unfeeling.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." Hermione grinned.

"For what it's worth, Severus… he loves you too." Snape narrowed his eyes at her.

"Yes. Well. We'd better come up with a plan. We may be running out of time. Let's focus on the task at hand."

Harry looked numbly at his reflection. He was covered in black velvet robes from his neck to the ground. His usually unruly hair lay flat against his head, and his thin, emaciated face only served to make his green eyes look larger and more vibrant. But anyone who looked closely could see that Harry Potter was devoid of almost all emotions. Almost.

Voldemort was almost kind to him, in his own way. Harry supposed that Tom Riddle had once been quite capable of love, kindness and compassion. But Tom Riddle had disappeared, even though Voldemort now looked like an older version of his childhood self. Around Harry, Voldemort was almost a human again. He tried so hard to win Harry's loyalty and affection that it was almost pathetic. Maybe some wizards could even have forgotten everything Voldemort had done under these conditions, but not Harry. He kept his anger and hate towards the dark Lord in the back of his mind, polishing it every minute with his thoughts until it glowed inside of him. He let Voldemort do what he wanted with him, knowing that with every touch Voldemort was losing a bit of his power over him.

But for now, Harry was still trapped, still a slave inside a comfortable prison.

Harry looked up as he heard a key in the lock, and he watched the door swing open, noting with little surprise who his visitor was. He quickly looked back to the mirror as Voldemort walked up behind him. Harry force himself not to shiver at the feeling of a hand brushing the velvet robes against his back.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" Voldemort said quietly. "I had them sent here just for you." Harry remained motionless as Voldemort leaned in closer and brought his lips to the skin below his ear. "I can give you anything you want," Voldemort whispered, and this time Harry couldn't help but shudder. "What's wrong?"

"I'm cold," Harry managed to reply. And he was. So cold, inside and out.

Next Chapter:

Severus sighed. "As much as it pains me to say this, I want your help." Snape glared at Remus' surprised look. "I'm only saying this because your girlfriend is too stubborn to come ask you herself. If it were up to me, I'd let her go in by herself, but I've learned, over time, that's it's NEVER really up to me."

Yours,

-N


End file.
